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Tuesday, January 6, 2009

"And when power ballads come back, we'll get big hair again."

Today I was somehow transported to a 17-year-old version of me while sitting at my desk at work. I think I was contemplating the definition of work, and the varieties of jobs I have held over the past 12 years (!!!). The story of how I came to respect Jerry Cantrell (stop rolling your eyes) unfolded before me. Think back to the summer of 1998 - I was 16, interning for a now defunct music marketing company. I somehow conned my way into interning at the Summerfest Marcus Amphitheater in Milwaukee. Their deal was... you organize the lines of people wanting to get cds/tshirts/boobs signed and you got into the show for free. It was a ridiculously awesome job. I was hauling a bunch of cds down to the signing booth when somehow my mom jeans caused me to slip and fall down the stairs. The box ripped and cds were everywhere...just as the man himself came out of nowhere. I was horrified, began to cry, and started apologizing. Good ol' Jer ambled over and helped me up, telling me that he didn't care about "no dang cds," and to prove the point he started jumping up and down on his own merchandise to cheer me up. I will never forget neither that day nor Jerry. So, in a much belated post, I thank thee, Jerry Cantrell (below, link to Wish You Were Here with SLASH)!

2 comments:

Daniel Brooks said...

Hah, great story. I met Method Man in the Staten Island Mall once. He came into a video store I was working at. Unfortunately, nothing cool happened. He did have a lot of money though.

caroline carr said...

method man!? video store!?! that is pretty sweet.

"all hail me, the good the bag the ugily/the money's around your way, lovely/where for art thou Meth-tical god-child"